


Rubberbands Interlude

by quiet__tiger



Series: Rubberbands [3]
Category: Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, cross dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 01:24:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10606398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiet__tiger/pseuds/quiet__tiger
Summary: Bart talks to Gar.  With sexy results.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during "Boys with Rubberbands."
> 
> Originally posted to Livejournal May. 9th, 2006.

Gar liked to take naps on Friday afternoons, before the younger Titans arrived at the Tower for the weekend. He knew that more hell broke loose when they were around, be it supervillains or food fights, and he wanted to be well-rested. He was curled up in a warm pool of sunlight on his bed, enjoying the quiet, when his door opened and shut. He opened his eyes to find Bart about a foot and a half away, watching him with his wide yellow eyes.

It took Gar a second to register was he was seeing, but then he made sure to stare.

Because who would want to miss Bart dressed like _that_?

The white blouse was frilly and hung a bit loosely on Bart’s torso, since it was designed to fit a girl with a chest. The plaid skirt went down to about mid-thigh, the pleats somehow making his strong thighs seem slimmer than normal. His Kid Flash boots looked so silly and bright compared to the rest of the outfit, but for some reason they just… made it. That and Bart’s hair, which Gar could now see was brushed back and up and gelled, and looked sort of like the hair of this punk girl that he used to know.

Gar sat up, swung his legs over the edge of his bed, and rubbed at his eyes, but the vision of his cute boyfriend dressed as a _girl_ didn’t go away. 

Bart blinked at him, coyly. Gar swallowed. “What’s. Um. Up?”

Bart leaned forwards and rested his hands on Gar’s thighs. “Hi.”

Gar had to chuckle, at Bart’s simple salutation or the smile in his eyes, he wasn’t sure. “Hi.” He leaned forwards the inches to kiss Bart hello, closed-mouthed since he felt like he needed to brush his teeth. He pulled back, the smile still in Bart’s eyes and now on his lips. “What’s with the outfit?”

“Last weekend was all weird. But you seemed to like the way I was dressed, even if you didn’t want to fool around with me.”

Gar nodded slowly. He _had_ liked the way Bart was dressed last weekend, the cute tops and cute pants and the way Bart’s softer features all worked together. But the entire situation had been too strange, and Gar just couldn’t bring himself to touch Bart more than platonically for the rest of the weekend. He just wasn’t attracted to girls, even if the girl was his boyfriend. He hadn’t wanted to take advantage, or _whatever_ it might have been, if he’d fooled around with Bart.

But now, Bart was looking at him earnestly, and a bit impatiently, and Gar had to pull back to look at Bart’s outfit again. He swallowed again, his throat dry. “You. You look hot.”

“Really?” Bart’s grin was completely adorable, and just a shade sexy. He batted his eyelashes, and leaned back over Gar.

“Oh, yeah.” Gar’s eyes slid halfway closed as he reached out to play with the hem of Bart’s skirt. The material was coarse, and Gar wondered if it was chafing Bart. Couldn’t have that.

Gar lifted the skirt, and saw that Bart was wearing boxer-briefs. He slid his hands under the skirt and over the cotton briefs, squeezing his hands as Bart’s thighs tensed. He pulled one hand back to run his fingers over Bart’s blouse, playing with the too-loose collar. He could feel Bart’s heart beating, could hear the way Bart’s breath was coming shorter.

The hand that Gar had on Bart’s thigh slid around and under, cupping Bart through the soft material. Bart moaned a little as he squeezed, and one of Bart’s hands came up to catch the hand on his chest.

The speedster breathed out, “I was. Wondering. If you could. If you were willing to, you know, fool around again.”

Gar let out a long, shuddery laugh. “I’d be really hurt if you told me we couldn’t. I’ve never thought you could be such a tease, coming in here like this, _dressed_ like that, and then _not_ want me to touch you, feel you, make you come…”

“Oh, God…” Bart’s eyes closed, and his hips thrust forwards. Gar pushed Bart back a little, just enough so he could slide to his knees on the floor. He pushed the skirt up with both hands, Bart’s erection straining against his briefs right in front of his face.

“You’ve got to. To. Hold up the skirt.” Gar looked up and Bart looked down, his pupils already dilated and his cheeks flushed.

“You want me to keep it _on_?” Bart’s eyes shut again and his breath hitched.

“Yeah… I. I _need_ to…”

Bart’s hands reached and hiked the front of the skirt up, balling it in his fists. Gar’s hands were free to roam, to squeeze and rub and slide. As his hands moved, he leaned in and closed his eyes, drawn to the scent of Bart’s arousal, and mouthed Bart’s erection. Bart moaned on every exhale of Gar’s, the moans gradually rising in pitch.

Gar slid his hands to Bart’s knees, then slid them back up, and had to stop them and squeeze the muscular thighs again when he realized the skin was way too smooth. Bart had shaved his _legs_. Gar pulled back and opened his eyes, and he almost never wanted to just stop staring, but the wet patch on the front of Bart’s briefs was too much of a draw.

He slid his hands up to the waist of the briefs and slowly peeled them down Bart’s thighs. Bart’s pre-cum was now free to leak from the slit, and Gar was helpless to not lean in and lick it off. Bart thrust into him, and Gar sucked, and Bart made that high-pitched whining sound in his throat that always turned Gar on even more.

Gar pulled back and ran his mouth down and up Bart’s shaft, one hand coming back up to squeeze Bart’s sac and press to fingers behind it. And that was _it_ , all Gar needed to make Bart come and shake and _groan_ , cum landing on Gar’s cheek when he turned his head.

Gar let Bart relax for a few seconds, then pulled his head back to look into Bart’s eyes. They were squeezed shut, but that was okay. Not able to hold back anymore, Gar took Bart in his mouth, swallowing him down, knowing that a few seconds was all Bart needed to be ready again. Bart's knuckles were white, gripping the skirt tightly, and Gar almost wanted that tight grip in his hair, pulling on him. But he didn't want to pull back off.

Gar swallowed around Bart’s shaft, and at Bart’s moan ran both hands up the back of Bart’s thighs to Bart’s tight ass. He cupped and squeezed and pulled, and Bart got the message. He thrust into Gar’s mouth, started to _fuck_ Gar’s mouth, and Gar wasn’t really sure who was enjoying it more, him or Bart.

Gar closed his eyes to focus on how everything _felt_ and how Bart _smelled_ and the _noises_ Bart made, and when Bart came again he pulled off to _taste_. When he was done shaking and twitching, Bart let his knees give out and he slumped to the floor to kneel against Gar. Gar wrapped his arms around him and kissed his cheek, then pulled back to kiss Bart’s mouth, Bart opening his to take Gar’s tongue.

Gar pressed Bart back until he was flat on his back on the floor. Gar thrust his own hips against Bart, needing pressure on his own erection. He desperately wanted to fuck Bart, feel him around his dick, have Bart arch and thrust up into him, but they hadn’t done that yet and he didn’t want Bart to think he only wanted to because of the way Bart was _dressed_. He settled for undoing the bottom part of his costume and finding a good place to _rub_.

It was infinitely better when Bart wriggled a hand between them and wrapped it around Gar’s cock. Gar thrust into Bart’s hand and leaned and moved a bit until he could kiss Bart. Bart sucked on his tongue and his hand squeezed and it wasn’t long before he shot his load on Bart’s blouse and probably part of his skirt.

He moved to Bart’s side once he let him go, and rubbed one finger around the small puddles soaking into the material of Bart’s outfit. “Sorry. I think I ruined your skirt.”

“’S okay. I sorta expected something to happen to it. A lot of what I envisioned involved you ripping it off. But this was way better.”

Bart rolled his head to the side to look into Gar’s eyes. Gar smiled, then kissed Bart briefly. “At least this way you can wear it again.”

“Yeah?”

“If you want.”

“I’m gonna say ‘yeah.’”

They looked at each other for a little while longer, until Gar realized it was probably pretty late. “We need to shower and change.”

“Yeah.” Bart stood, then pulled Gar to his feet, and Gar tried not to fall on his ass as his legs got twisted in his pants. Bart laughed at him. “Another good thing about skirts, no pant legs to get twisted up in.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gar straightened himself out, at least enough to make it to the bathroom. He watched Bart pull his briefs back up and adjust them. “You know, Bart…”

Bart looked over at him warily, but his smile was bright. “What?”

“A thong would look really good under that skirt. Any skirt.”

Bart flushed a bit. “A thong?”

“Yes.” Gar stalked over to Bart, hoping he wasn’t giving off too many predator-prey vibes. He stopped in front of the younger boy. “It’d be hot.”

“No one would see it. Except for you.”

“And is that a problem?”

“No…”

“Great.” Gar smiled so his fangs showed, and Bart swallowed. They kissed again, and Gar tried to tell himself to stop picturing Bart in thongs and skirts and tube tops.

He wasn’t sure which of them was more screwed up, him for wanting Bart to cross-dress, or Bart for being willing. But it didn’t matter in the least, so long as they both liked it.

Gar pulled back and he and Bart headed to the bathroom to clean up. He’d have to thank whoever did Bart’s hair and got him the clothes. He owed them big.


End file.
